Never Having to Say
by shallowdweller
Summary: Lisbon's point of view, a less structured set of subtext from early Mentalist episodes. This time the "quotes" which name the chapter are unspoken, things only Patrick Jane could know, besides Lisbon herself. Because caring for Patrick Jane means never having to say...
1. You're Lying

**These characters are not mine. I make no money from fan fiction. And this bit of subtext from Lisbon's POV is from Red John's Friends, from season 1.**

 **Working on my drabbles for this episode has so far been challenging in several ways. One is that it feels dreadfully unballanced to leave out Lisbon's point of view. Important things happen in the series in this episode, and Jane isn't even present for all of them. So here's a bit more nostalgia fanfic, just in case any of you still have an appetite for more of such.**

 **I did this free form, but found when I had completed the body and saved it, it was exactly 500 words! How fortuitous! And the complimentary reflection of Lisbon's point of view calls for some explanation as well. The quote here is actually something that remains unsaid, although that doesn't mean Jane doesn't "hear" it anyway. Because caring about Patrick Jane means never having to say...**

"You're Lying."

When he made his pitch to Minelli, I came along for moral support. But I knew what the response would be. Deep down, Jane must have known too. But the man never admits his limitations, not even to himself. He thinks he could sell snow to an frostbitten Eskimo.

And maybe he could. But the boss was not buying.

It took him a while to acknowledge that Minelli meant what he said. The case was closed and could not be reopened. We couldn't touch it.

It took me less than a second, even without seeing his face, to know that Jane didn't mean a word of what he said next.

Not that I have any special insight into Patrick Jane's head. For all that I've worked with him for two and a half years, he still catches me by surprise more often than not. I have a sense of when I should be worried about him trying to pull one over on me. Which is most of the time.

But I know where his heart is on Red John. And he has convinced himself that somehow this Jared Renfrew can give him information that will crack that case. The only one that Jane hasn't solved, so far.

The only one that really matters to him.

Platitudes from Jane's mouth are so out of place that my skin crawls, and its a wonder to me that Minelli doesn't immediately see it and call him on it. But of course, Jane has been very forthright with me about his intentions. Minelli knows that Jane has his heart set on catching his family's killer himself, but this is the first time I've heard Jane say straight out to anyone else that his purpose is vengeance.

Does Minelli have any idea what that means to Jane? The lengths he would go to? The intensity of his fury?

If he doesn't, I won't be the one to tell him. I'm still hoping that Jane will think better of his plans, that I won't have to arrest him for whatever he thinks would balance the scales with the serial killer. That he'll trust justice to the courts of law. That he'll leave room for divine retribution, even if he doesn't believe in it himself.

But I mean to stick close to him, just in case. Because I'm not about to stand by while this brilliant, broken man becomes a cold blooded killer, or worse. Not after all the good he's done. Not when there is so much more that he could do.

I need Jane to trust me. Which means that I won't intentionally give him away, not even to the man I most respect in law enforcement. I keep my face as neutral as I can, hoping to God that I'm not as transparent to Minelli as I apparently am to Jane.


	2. Be Careful

**These characters are not mine. I make no money from fan fiction. And this bit of subtext from Lisbon's POV is from Red John's Friends, from season 1.**

"Be Careful."

My brothers used to call me a worrywart. Well, somebody has to pay attention to the things that could go wrong. They were immature boys with delusions of invincibility. They never seemed to consider possible loss of life, limb, or property to be a good enough reason to take extra care. Let alone shattered hopes and expectations. It was always my job to consider trivialities like that.

Patrick Jane is a fully grown man, but in this way, he's just like my brothers at their worst.

Jane is trouble in a suit. He's a walking Murphy's Law. Not that he obeys that law any more than the rest of them, but it seems to tail him wherever he goes. Like a stubborn rookie. Not hard to spot, but hard to shake.

So while I expect that complex mind of his has already covered this ground, perhaps better than I could, I still intend to do all I can to make the pitfalls real to him. And maybe even get him to take a few sensible precautions, if only to humor me.

He seems pretty sure that Renfrew is innocent of the crime for which he was imprisoned. I'm skeptical. Jane can discern motives and deceptions better than anyone I've met, but even he makes mistakes.

Supposing Renfrew did it, could Jane even be manipulated into providing false evidence to exhonerate his informant? No. He wouldn't do that. He would never let someone control him that way. I hope.

But even supposing he really is innocent and Jane can legitimately clear him, what would it do to Jane if his promising lead is just a dead end?

Perhaps a disappointment of that magnitude might finally teach the man some caution. I won't let myself stress over whether Patrick Jane gets discouraged in his quest for vengeance. But he can't say that I didn't warn him.

Meanwhile he needs to understand that I have my job to think of. I couldn't lie to Minelli when he asked me point blank if Jane was playing him. And I can't entirely neglect my duty to make sure he doesn't make trouble for the unit.

But neither will I fray my nerves to the breaking point trying to do surveillance on a man as slippery as Jane. I'm not wasting my colleagues' time chasing someone who can only be caught if he wants to be. I'm hoping he knows that I can be trusted if he gets himself in a bind.

I'm hoping against all hope that he has the sense to be discreet, to avoid forcing Minelli into some kind of action against him.

Now all I have to do is set up some contingency plans for when Jane calls. Odds are good this could be a catastrophic mess. One that I'll have to clean up, as usual.

If Minelli asks, it was a judgment call.


	3. I Want You To Stay

**These characters are not mine. I make no money from fan fiction. And this bit of subtext from Lisbon's POV is from Red John's Friends, from season 1.**

"I want you to stay."

This was absolutely the last thing I wanted.

Minelli drew a line in the sand. There was no going back then. Jane had to cross it. Because Minelli's risk free strategy of getting Renfrew to talk just wouldn't cut it for Jane. He has to do things his way, as usual.

I understand why he feels compelled to follow where this trail leads. I have to admit that it shows some real integrity to do it even without the help that the CBI can provide, rather than put Minelli in a bad position. No, be honest. He doesn't worry much about making the boss look bad. He's trying to protect my career.

Which is stupid. I don't need anyone's protection. But he will. Whatever his next moves, he will be likely be drawing the attention of some very powerful, even dangerous people. Maybe even Red John, if Renfrew's claims can be believed. Jane thinks well on his feet, but there are times when even fast talk and cleverness won't keep him safe. And if my team isn't around, who will step between him and whoever wants to kill him?

Right now, a very angry part of me answers to that description. Does it just not matter to him that people care about him?

But mostly I just feel desperately sad. I had hoped that he found some purpose here, with us. Something that might even mean more to him than his rage and guilt, a better way to use his pain. I thought that he was finding his place among us. I thought that having meaningful work might be helping him heal.

He must see something in my face, because his smile doesn't hide the bit of regret. I try not to feel comforted by the thought that he might miss me, a little. Why should that matter, after all?

And then he is trying to comfort me. No lie. Just like my uncle trying to cheer me up after Mom died. Just silly distractions in the face of a serious loss.

What did he call me? Glinda, the good witch? As if I could wave a wand and make things better.

He learned from me? I can't imagine how. To him, I must seem like some stodgy, rule-bound school-marm. All I could tell him was what was not wise, not prudent, not possible. And half the time he proved me wrong. Maybe I taught him more about how to get around the rules, although he seemed to have that skill set mastered already.

Or maybe he did learn to care, just a bit, for our team. Our hard-working, loyal, passionate friends, who care fiercely about justice, and may be the closest thing Jane now has to a family.

If I had a way to send him home, I would.

But I guess Dorothy had to find her own way, too.


	4. Maybe we're the ones

**These characters are not mine. I make no money from fan fiction. And this bit of subtext from Lisbon's POV is from Red John's Friends, from season 1.**

"Maybe we're the ones who learned from him."

I find them together, faces reflecting my own frustration, but also united in resolve. It's hard enough to soothe my own churning gut in the wake of Jane's departure. I hate that I'll have to talk them down, too. I can't blame them, though.

It isn't just me. Jane got into their heads, too. We all feel angry on his behalf, because after he's done so much good work for us, the CBI is letting him go. Even pushing him out. Because guilt and innocence is secondary to rules and covering our bureaucratic backside.

I barely managed to keep quiet when Minelli made light of people imprisoned for crimes they didn't commit. Yeah, it happens, but does that mean we should be complacent? Is accepting the status quo, regardless of what might be gained from looking deeper, really what we're all about? Virgil Minelli has been good to me, but in this matter I think he's wrong.

I don't remember ever feeling so conflicted before. Until Jane came into our lives, I took it for granted that justice and enforcing the law were pretty much the same thing. But now compliance with authority goes against the grain.

Even VanPelt, with her righteous rigidity, can't be satisfied with following our orders this time. And Cho, usually so self-confident, is unusually, almost visibly distressed. Is it because we're losing a key asset, or because we're losing a friend?

But it's Rigsby who gets right to the heart of things. We owe him. He needs us.

You're killing me, guys. Wasn't this hard enough already?

And then I see it. The determination. Things they are bursting to tell me, just like when they've found a great lead. They aren't just here to vent. They've done some looking on their own, and they've found something.

They knew that digging could cost them. They're willing to risk it. I'm proud enough to bust, but also nervous. This could backfire on us all in a really big way. But it could also mean that Jane is on the right track. It could give us a real hook into this insane, unsolved case, maybe stop Red John's reign of terror for good. If we stop him, that means lives saved, innocents spared the kind of nightmare that Jane lives with every day.

Sometimes right and wrong is about more than rules. Sometimes getting to the truth is worth the big risks. Sometimes meeting the needs of a friend is the most important thing.

Maybe working with Patrick Jane has taught us some things. Even made us better cops.

So I'll take a page from his book and encourage them to buck the rules. Quietly. I'm so glad he isn't here to see this. He'd never let me live it down.


	5. What Have I Done?

**These characters are not mine. I make no money from fan fiction. And this bit of subtext from Lisbon's POV is from Red John's Friends, from season 1.**

"What have I done?"

That went even worse than I imagined. I knew it. Knew we couldn't get away with bucking the system. Should have known that taking responsibility for the whole mess myself wouldn't work, even if the team would let me. Which of course they wouldn't.

But what else could have I have done? Even if I had forbidden them to pursue the Renfrew angle, they could have bucked my orders too. And I sure wasn't going to let them take the fall for doing what I most wanted to do.

But suspension... they don't deserve that. They weren't insubordinate, they were acting on my orders. Orders I gave them in full awareness of the possible consequences. But I never meant for my team to be written up, reprimanded. It was my intention to take the fall, if necessary. I stayed close, just in case.

Somehow Minelli must have anticipated us. He was there and asking questions before I knew it. He knew to go to VanPelt, first, with her compulsive honesty. No matter how smoothly I delivered my lines, the boss wouldn't have fell for it. You would think after all this time with Jane we would have planned out our evasive maneuvers better, had some contingency plans mapped out. But then, he's always in charge of that part. He makes it look so easy.

He taught us just enough to be dangerous to ourselves.

I can't back down, now. Minelli knows me well enough to realize that I was serious about further infractions. Is there any way to backpedal enough to get the rest of the team off the hook?

Jane has been gone less than a day and already the team is in a desperate position. Much as I'd like to blame him for the catastrophe, he never asked me for this. He was trying to spare us this confrontation. The choice to investigate secretly, even without him, was my call. Which is probably why it ended up like this. I'm great at following rules, even setting them. Breaking them has never been my forte. I'd love to think that diligent, honest police work is what matters most in law enforcement, but how much of the team's success comes from Jane's brilliance with thinking outside the box?

Evidently, way more than I thought.

So now what? If I can't talk Minelli into looking the other way, could I just use my time on suspension to pursue it privately? Unfortunately, the others wouldn't let me do it alone. If we get caught again, it could mean all our jobs. But we'll have more time without the paper work. And no Minelli looking over our shoulders. If we could connect with Jane, that would help our chances...

God, I hope it doesn't come to that.

Does Jane have any idea how much we're willing to risk for him?


	6. You're Welcome

**These characters are not mine. I make no money from fan fiction. And this bit of subtext from Lisbon's POV is from Red John's Friends, from season 1.**

"You're Welcome."

My hand tightens on the phone at the sound of his voice. My face feels warm as I register the tone. A quick glance around the bullpen reassures me that the others are not watching me. VanPelt is intent upon her computer, Cho is brewing a fresh pot of coffee, and it looks like Rigsby just headed out for the pizza. I don't have to hide my suddenly damp eyes. Jane's thanks sound surprisingly heartfelt. I haven't heard him say those words like this before. With that aching vulnerability. Barely a trace of pretense. Except for one thing. He's trying not to let on how much this means to him. If it was just for show, he would play it up for the pathos. I've heard him do it a million times. When he minimizes the emotion, it's real.

I blink rapidly, cursing myself for wearing my heart on my sleeve. I'm too eager to believe that his thanks are genuine, that he understands how much we care, that he is even capable of responding in kind. He could still be playing me. But to what purpose? He must realize now how committed we are to helping him. We're putting our jobs on the line on the mere hope of getting any information on Red John. Because he needs us to. He doesn't need to flatter me.

I want to acknowledge him with the expected response, offhand, as if it really doesn't matter. As if anyone would be welcome to the loyalty that I have given him. As if I haven't placed my career, and things that matter even more to me, in his hands. As if the knowledge of how he can use people's trust doesn't terrify me with doubts.

The words stick in my throat. I don't trust my voice. I let the silence stretch, breathing with him, turning my back on the room where the team is busily preparing to welcome him back with our full support.

The others do it primarily from a sense of honor, friendship, justice. My heart, beating suddenly harder and faster, makes me worry that there's more at stake for me. When did it start to mean so much to me? His gratitude, his appreciation?

The man is insufferably arrogant. Deceitful. He plays with the law, plays with people's lives. He has declared to me that vengeance is his primary motivation. And I want him to find his release, his peace, more than almost anything. More than my job, more even than doing right by the fine people that I lead.

Does he know how hard I'm trying not to care too much? Not to give him more than I can afford to lose?

"I'll be there in 15 minutes." The line goes dead, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, both sorry and relieved that I could not say the words.


	7. I Don't Know How

**These characters are not mine. I make no money from fan fiction. And this bit of subtext from Lisbon's POV is from Red John's Friends, from season 1.**

"I don't know how."

I've relied on my badge and CBI resources for as long as I've had this job. Now I feel nervous, jumpy, uncertain. This lead is essential if we want to get this wrapped up within a week. Not to mention what it means to Jane. I'm afraid of falling flat on my face. Because I can't think how to get this woman to open the door and talk to us.

She changed her name and went into hiding. Which probably means she has something to hide. So why would she open up to us when we don't have any official authority to question her?

Jane, on the other hand, seems to be in his element. He has already spotted my problem. No doubt he has a plan all thought out. Ready to put into action. I hope it won't be too hard to play along...

And then he tells me to try.

Try what? Winging it? Conning her? Playing her? That's not me! If I could do that, why would I be putting up with his bull week after week? Sheer masochism?

He looks at me expectantly.

He is messing with my head again! And after all I've done! Does he like making me look like a fool? For the millionth time, I fight down a strong urge to smack that look off his face. Some day, I swear, I'll do it.

But this time I'm not fast enough. The door opens.

I keep waiting for him to come to my rescue here.

No wait, I'm the one who does the rescuing. Too bad it isn't a gun wielding maniac at the door. I could handle that.

The woman says something about thinking we were Harry. That's all I have to work with? A name, and we have no idea who he might be? Obviously we aren't Harry.

Jane, why the %#& won't you help me out here?

I manage to not tell her we're law enforcement. That would probably make her clam up, and I can't force her to talk to us. I give her our names, instead. And then I'm stumped. What would Jane do? Besides sit there like an idiot pretending that this is my job, I mean. I'm drawing a blank. Too bad I can't ask him. If he was going to put me on the spot like this, couldn't he have given me a little notice?

He finally takes pity on me, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Of course he knows what to do with just a name. Apparently without my title, my borrowed authority, I'm practically useless as an interrogator. It rankles, I can feel my face flushing. What must Jane think of me? No wonder he has the upper hand with me at every turn. A badge means next to nothing to him, anyway. And what am I without it?


	8. That's Not What I Feel

**These characters are not mine. I make no money from fan fiction. And this bit of subtext from Lisbon's POV is from Red John's Friends, from season 1.**

 **This un-quote may seem obscure. I am selecting the scene in which Jane prepares to pick up Renfrew, believing that the man he just exonerated has enough information on Red John to lure the serial killer out of hiding. As he checks in with a skeptical Lisbon on his way out, he tells her "We're getting close. I can feel it." The dramatic irony is that the ex-"psychic" is mistaken. There's another 6 seasons yet to go** **before he finally gets RJ. And somehow, Lisbon is the one who really senses the truth of the matter. Read this with the latest chapter of The Truth of How I Feel: "One of You is Wrong."**

"That's not what I feel..."

Intuitive is not a word often used to describe me. Jane's the one who anticipates what is coming. He's rarely wrong.

But this time...

I want to be wrong. I want everything to go smoothly. I want Renfrew to give Jane exactly what he needs so we can finally catch Red John. I want to be there when Jane confronts him, to ensure that he doesn't follow his impulse to kill the man on sight. I want for justice to prevail and for everything to be set right again.

I want Patrick Jane to be free, at last.

Somehow, deep down, I don't trust this. Something isn't right, and I can't quite put my finger on it. I can't dismiss my dread that something is about to go very wrong. I want to warn him. But what can I say? He wants so much to believe that he's the one in control. He won't listen to me.

I try to use the nameless worry to spur me to diligence and caution. I've checked everything over repeatedly, tried to prepare for every contingency. The plan should work.

It seems strange to delegate the transfer to Rigsby and Cho. They can handle it. Someone has to be ready to receive the prisoner. If I micromanage Renfrew's release, it won't necessarily help. It might actually hurt. My forboding could become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The others seem to have more confidence in Jane's certainty than I can muster. I envy them. And I hope with all my heart that their faith in him is well founded, in spite of my doubts.

After all, he was right about Renfrew's innocence. And with our help he was able to prove it, even without the full resources of the CBI behind it, even with everything that stood in our way. Minelli was impressed. He wasn't the only one, either. Our reputation has only risen higher for the risks that we took. If not for the instinctive anxiety nagging at me, it would be easy to get swept up in Jane's excitement.

And yet...

This man who claims to know about Red John. Just how much does he know? Is it really enough to draw the killer out of hiding? Even if it does, will we be able to catch him?

I consider the anticipation on Jane's face, trying not to wonder once again what it would mean to have his hopes dashed when his quarry seems so close. I can't help reminding him that nothing is certain. Red John could get the better of us, once again. As expected, it has no impact on his unshakeable assurance. He remains firm in his belief that he will see his enemy soon. He intends to make a quick end of it.

If I had any real expectation that it could happen, I wouldn't let him out of my sight.


	9. You Deserve Better than Pity

**These characters are not mine. I make no money from fan fiction. And this bit of subtext from Lisbon's POV is from Red John's Friends, from season 1.**

 **The unspoken words here are not "I told you so." And I think we all know why. Except for Lisbon. She only understood parts of her feelings.**

"You deserve better than pity."

If I had felt even the slightest inclination to gloat about being right for once, his stricken face would have wiped it out immediately.

Of course, the grisly scene of Renfrew's death, and the poor woman with him, made it impossible to feel anything but horror from the outset. I find myself pitying the degenerate creep, in spite of the fact that he removed himself from our protection, practically daring Red John to come and get him. Who knew that the serial killer could reach this far, this fast, and this ruthlessly?

Clearly Jane didn't. And sometimes it seems that he knows practically everything.

His face is carefully blank as he views the crime scene. I can only imagine what he is feeling now. It's too deep for him to let it show. I can't see his pain, but I feel it for both of us.

He goes looking for the words I refused to give him earlier. I can't say them. My heart isn't in it. I won't add to his suffering. But I can't find any further source of comfort for either of us. Our hoped for source of leads is gone. Perhaps I could look at it as evidence that Jane was right about one thing: Renfrew really did have information that could have lead us to Red John.

For all the good it does us now.

I want to believe that some clue might be left behind...was the writing on the wall a message intended for us? I try to convince myself that I believe it. But that same instinct that warned me that this case would not end well... it's back. It's telling me that our enemy is too smart too leave any trace that we could use. If the bloody letters said anything worth our knowing, they would have been wiped clean. The fact that they were left tells me that someone wants to torture Jane further with fruitless speculations.

Jane seems to know it, too. My gut clenches painfully at his vacant expression, his listless movements and monotone replies. Is he seeing another scene of gore and desolation in his memory? Does he feel like he has failed his family again? I feel a strange impulse to touch him, to pull him in close, like I used to when James or Tommy was feeling dejected. I never let them get away with putting up walls. I'm too strong to be shut out.

But Jane isn't my brother. He's my colleague. I have no right to hold him, a grown man, and act like anything I can do will make this better. Most of the things I want to say to him are platitudes I don't really believe. They will sound like insincerity, like pity. He deserves better than that.

The only thing I can truly share is my faith that justice will ultimately prevail. We _will_ get him. We must.


End file.
